I had a dream about you. The sky looked threatening, and hail the size, shape, and color of boxing gloves started pounding us in the face. Luckily my mustache looked like Chuck Norris, and you were able to take shelter under my nose.
She had a forehead like a dance floor. You should have seen the way the sun danced on her face in the middle of the night. I never actually saw it because I was always asleep in the middle of the night, but I’ll bet it looked unbelievable.
I had a dream about you. You were drinking apple juice, and I was drinking horse piss, though the spectators in the stadium couldn’t tell who was drinking what, even though one million dollars for guessing correctly was on the line.
I had a dream about you. I said green was blue and yellow, and you said green was yellow and blue. You were like that with everything I said, taking the exact opposite stance, yet completely agreeing with me. That’s how I knew you loved me.
I had a dream about you. I was a ventriloquist trying to share your fashion secrets, but you wouldn’t talk. So we put on a strip show for the department store sale, and I was arrested for theft – I took away your dignity as a mannequin.
You’re as likely to see me sleeping on the job as a snooze is liable to grow legs 26.2 miles long and run a larm. What’s a larm? A buzzing sound the length of a marathon, but I always sleep through them—including the one in Boston.
I had a dream about you. We were both surrounded by poor people, but there was one big difference—I was poor, but you were rich. That’s why I was shocked when you tried to rob me. After all, I was one of many who voted you into power.
I had a dream about you. You looked like Hulk Hogan’s nose, and your legs looked like his mustache. I admired them and wondered how many squats you could do. Your mustache could probably run a marathon, while my mustache looks like a ghost.
I had a dream about you. You were being hung. I had a sword in one hand and a stool in the other. I couldn’t decide which one to use, so I stood on the stool and threw myself on the sword. It was the least I could do to protest capital punishment.
I'm the only person I know who has slept through a fire drill. Apparently, I pulled the alarm. Yeah, I sleepwalk. Sometimes I sleep run. I was asleep when I ran the Boston Marathon. I was so tired when I finished that I slept for another sixteen hours.
I had a dream about you. I think we made love, but I can’t be certain because the scenes were censored by the Moral Authorities. The thing that pisses me off is my grocery list was identical to the Blacklist, so I was starving throughout the sequence.
I had a dream about you. I was a giraffe, and you were a stripper using my neck as a pole. We made a great team, sort of like the 1987 Cincinnati Reds, minus the Pete Rose cheating scandal. Well, baseball called it cheating, but I call it enterprising.
Sometimes when I read before bed I get so tired that my eyes gloss over the sentences without actually taking in any information, as my mind wanders in a pre dream state. That’s also how I drive 99% of the time. The other 1% I’m just flat-out asleep.
My cat likes to wake me up by licking my armpit. Never before have I had such a romantic alarm clock. It’s true, man, I should have been born Harry Truman. He could have been a memorable deodorant salesman, if he weren’t such a forgettable President.
I had a dream about you. You had just developed a way to drink sleep, and I owned a coffee shop. You wanted to partner up, but I suggested a more natural fit would be with a hotel. I recommended a sleazy one downtown, where all the hookers go to sell sex.
